


Come and Lay Down Your Shoulder

by chrysanthemum8



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel being a morning person, Castiel being a soft contemplative bookish bby, Castiel in the Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), First Time, Fluff, M/M, Sharing Clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:08:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26308330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chrysanthemum8/pseuds/chrysanthemum8
Summary: Living in the bunker, Cas develops his own routine and some new habits.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 11
Kudos: 115





	Come and Lay Down Your Shoulder

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this years ago and posted it under my old tumblr url, long before Cas actually had his own room in the bunker. All I wanted in life was to indulge in some premium Cas-in-the-bunker content. Anyway, I found it recently and made some edits. I distinctly remember that when I wrote this I intended for it to be a cute, short little drabble and definitely not over 2k, but what are ya gonna do. Enjoy.

It finally occurred to them that this made more sense than any other arrangement. Where else would he go? The bunker is enormous, there’s plenty of space. Always having him close by was convenient. So he went with them. And since permanently relocating to the bunker, Castiel has developed some very specific habits and routines that he found makes him very happy.

Like getting up really, really early in the morning, before the boys do. He takes the time to appreciate the early morning sunlight and how different it is from the sunlight the rest of the day. He likes how golden it is early in the morning, so he stands outside quietly and lets it wash over him. He likes how the air feels and smells, and the way the birds sound, and how comforted he feels by the greenness of the enormous trees around him. He revels in the solitude.

After he’s had his fill of that, he often likes to take a long shower. He cleans himself, but most of the time that he spends in there is spent just appreciating how the water feels on him, and how the warmth of it is soothing and the cleanliness of it is satisfying. He stands in the spray of the water until he enters an almost meditative state. That meditative state becomes more intentional when he realizes that meditation could become part of his routine, moving him through the rest of his day more centered and mindful. As his meditation becomes more routine in the shower, so does his tentative – then later, more confident – touches to himself, reveling in the warmth and intensity that his borrowed body is capable of feeling. Should one or both of the boys be up, they wonder why he spends so much time in there. But they just leave him be.

Cas eventually falls out of the habit of wearing the same outfit every day. He acquires some of Dean’s old items, because Sam’s shirts sag off of his body and his pants drag treacherously beneath his feet. But he finds that Dean’s old worn-out jeans are particularly soft from wear compared to Castiel’s dress pants, and the cotton t shirts in various dark colors are nice too, and he enjoys wearing those things. He doesn’t even mind the deodorant stains and the pilling of the material in some spots. But often times he feels like he’s missing something if he goes without the trench coat. So even if he’s wearing jeans and a t shirt or flannel, he puts the coat on over these things when joining the boys on beer and grocery runs, and occasionally on hunts. Dean doesn’t admit how endearing he finds this.

Cas eventually finds that he likes sitting in a comfy chair in the corner of the library, his feet tucked under him while he’s engrossed in all kinds of books. He likes philosophy, especially ethics because he’s fascinated by the ways in which humans make decisions and develop morality without divine guidance. He also loves reading books on all kinds of sciences. He loves that humans are curious enough to wonder about the universe around them, intelligent enough to observe and learn, and then in their infinite talent and generosity they articulately write about their discoveries to share with others. 

Cas learns that green is his favorite color. He doesn’t have a reason at first. He wonders if maybe he developed a preference for it because he so enjoys the time he spends outside most mornings in the early sunlight, the comfort he feels when he’s appreciating the lush greenness of the trees about him and the overgrown grass underfoot. He loves the forest green hand-me-down t shirt that Dean gives him. It’s the shirt Castiel wears most often now. He also sees flashes of bright green when he closes his eyes during his morning showers, when he’s trying to clear his mind. No matter how hard he tries to think of nothing and focus on his breathing, vibrant green that’s highlighted with gold interrupts his concentration. And while this is often when Cas finds himself trailing his fingers down his chest and wrapping them around himself, he doesn’t dwell on the fact that he knows what that green is, does nothing more than scratch the surface of that acknowledgement.

He even starts collecting little things that are green. A stray string, possibly a thread from a green item of clothing, which he finds on the floor of the bunker is now perpetually tied around his right wrist. A tiny green notebook found on the ground in a gas station parking lot with the first two pages containing phone numbers and little reminders written by a stranger now has taken up residence in the pocket of his trench coat. Castiel now uses it to write down his own ideas and thoughts and reminders. After having it for a few days and writing quite frequently, he finds that Dean’s name comes up a lot in his thoughts.

When the boys do eventually make it to the beach for a day after a quick hunt, Castiel finds some rocks in the sand that delight him. They’re varying colors, and he brings the ones he likes best back to the bunker. He favors a tiny pale green one, which he keeps in his pocket when he’s wearing Dean’s old pants, and under his pillow when he’s not.

He gives Sam and Dean each a rock from that day at the beach; Dean’s is gray-blue, Sam’s is sandy yellow. They’re appreciative of their odd little gifts, Sam openly thanking Cas with a huff of a laugh, Dean gruffly grunting a “thanks” while rolling it between his fingers and examining it closely. Dean keeps his in the glove compartment in the Impala. Sam’s is on his nightstand. Cas likes the idea of his friends also keeping little mementos of their experiences, like he does.

Castiel has certain moments that he likes to spend with each of the boys; Sam when he’s doing research, Dean when he’s cooking. He likes Sam’s disciplined concentration when he’s reading. His brow furrows, making him look almost angry. But Cas knows it’s just curiosity. Sam’s curiosity is one of Castiel’s favorite things about him, and he thrills in getting to experience it first-hand when he watches him read. Cas doesn’t realize that Sam is watching him back. Sam doesn’t say anything when he observes Cas doing funny little things like coloring his thumbnail with a green sharpie from the pile of highlighters and pens on the table while Sam flips through books or clicks away on his laptop.

And watching Dean cook is just as interesting. He doesn’t do it often, but sometimes when they go grocery shopping Dean puts expensive things in his coat before they pay and he takes it home with them, and this is particularly exciting for Dean. Cas doesn’t see it hurting anyone and it makes Dean happy to be able to cook with these things, so he doesn’t say anything besides a well-timed eye roll. He just appreciates how at peace Dean looks when he’s creating something. And Dean always catches Cas sticking his finger in whatever he’s making so he can try it before it’s done, but he doesn’t say anything. He likes that Cas wants to try his food first, instead of waiting until it’s done. He wants Cas to like what he creates. He wants Cas to be satisfied.

Cas’s room is like Dean’s in that there is a sink with a mirror mounted above it, and he likes looking at his reflection. Sometimes he takes his shirts off and turns from side to side, interested in the planes of skin before him. He knows that this was not always his body, but he feels a strong sense of ownership of it now, and he likes the functionality of it. While he still finds human bodies terrifyingly frail, he’s fascinated by everything from his thick eyelashes, which evolved to keep out sand and dirt, to his hands, with those amazingly useful little opposable thumbs, to his nipples, which are, in fact, completely useless. He likes his broad lips. He likes the sharpness of his hips. He finds the color of his eyes striking. He stands in front of his mirror often, almost every day, and just looks. He supposes that by conventional standards of many humans, he is attractive. It’s surprisingly satisfying and makes him wonder who else might appreciate that about him. He thinks about Dean and feels his stomach flutter. He sees his cheeks turn pink in the mirror before him.

The boys watch as Castiel develops a routine and preferences and habits. He’s very much become his own individual, and they can’t help but forget that he’s not human. Sam thinks he’s interesting, even more so now than he used to be, and sometimes watches him with that curious gaze. Dean thinks that Cas and his new habits are amusing, even cute. He doesn’t say that aloud to anyone, but watching Cas at the beach as he crouched down barefoot in the sand to pick up tiny pebbles and hold them close to his face with his eyes squinted, cute was really the first word his mind provided. He feels the same when he watches Cas at the kitchen table in the mornings, fresh out of the shower and looking calm as ever as he hunches over his little green notebook, scribbling away with wet hair falling in his eyes. He wonders what he’s writing about. Dean also finds that he’s filled with an inexplicable joy at the fact that Cas wears his old green t shirt all the time. And also that Cas gave him this sweet little rock that he keeps in his car, because it makes him happy. And he likes that Cas is finding things that he likes to do, things that bring him happiness. This is important. Dean wants him to be happy. He hopes that the things he does for Cas contribute somehow to this growing happiness.

The morning that Castiel spends in his bed pinned down with Dean between his thighs, writhing with lips against Castiel’s neck and cock against his groin, it’s very early. Earlier even than Cas usually wakes up. He’s tired and relaxed, albeit a bit overwhelmed. He was confused when Dean had crept into the room, sat on his bed, and began quietly and hesitantly asking Cas if he was happy, if he was okay not being out elsewhere in the world and instead being here, with them. With him. Castiel was bewildered at the timing of the conversation. But Dean had to do this immediately, muttered something about how he “worked up the nerve,” and finally pressed his mouth firmly to Cas’s. When Cas adjusts to it, then sinks into it and slips his tongue past Dean’s lips, he finds that something wakes up in him, something he had been trying not to acknowledge, something he didn’t think could be real. But now, this could – should – be part of his quiet little routine, his glowing mornings and contemplative afternoons. The small lamp on his bedside table is on, so there is just enough light for him to see the dazzling green of Dean’s eyes as he scans them over Castiel’s body, gripping him reverently as he shifts and presses. When Castiel climaxes with Dean’s deft fingers on him and in him, his head tilted back against the pillow, body tensing rhythmically, fingers grasping desperately at the sheets and at Dean, he’s shocked at the almost painful sensation, frantic. It’s not like when he’s in the shower by himself, slow and warm. For them to finally indulge in each other is different, all-consuming, powerful. Dean pauses the movements of his hips and stares at him unblinkingly, fascinated. Castiel sighs contentedly through the aftershocks, reaches between Dean’s legs to grip him tentatively and then more confidently, and those agonizingly beautiful green eyes slip shut, the room full of quiet, breathy sighs.

After that morning, his routine is altered a little bit. He still likes to bask in the early morning sun. He still takes luxurious, meditative showers. He watches the boys. He keeps little items that he finds that make him happy. He hunts with them. He reads and writes a lot. But he also seeks out little moments of shared affection with Dean. He still likes to be there when Dean cooks, but he often ends up pressing kisses to the back of his neck while he works. He seeks Dean out when he’s done spending time alone so he can lead him back to his room and sink to his knees before him, looking up to lock his gaze with shocked green before leaning to take him in. He finds that he likes to curl up on Dean’s bed with him while he reads sometimes, often abandoning the comfy library chair. The thoughts and ideas that he writes in his journal are now sometimes shared with Dean, spurring long-winded conversations between the two of them that can last all night, sitting on one of their beds facing each other with their knees pressed together, speaking in low, secretive voices. His wardrobe merges more with Dean’s, sharing belts and socks and jackets. He links their fingers together when they’re sitting near each other or walking together, no matter where they are. For a short time at first, Dean instinctively pulls away from it. The day he stops pulling away, Cas nearly cries with joy for him, the implications for Dean’s growth and happiness and acceptance of himself nearly bowling Cas over. They move with each other slowly, deliberately, indulging in every new thing, moving through the world a little differently now. Sam observes much of this with delight. He stays quiet. Dean and Cas don’t hide it, but they don’t say anything about it to him. Sam keeps his thoughts to himself and watches them make each other happy in small and powerful ways.

On the early morning that Castiel is outside and turns to find Dean standing beside him with a small smirk, the golden sunlight catching his eyes in a way that makes Cas’s breath catch in his chest, he recalls why he adores green so much. Castiel gazes at him fondly. He reaches out to gently brush his fingers against Dean’s. The sun washes over them, his happiness swelling in his chest, becoming his whole being, his eyes stinging and nose prickling with how overcome he is, the lush greenness of their surroundings enveloping them safely. He tries not to cry his love into the cool morning air, overwhelmed by the eternity that is laid out before them.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Kansas Remembers Me Now by Orville Peck.


End file.
